


We All Scream for Ice Cream

by Mercurialfan



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4274718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercurialfan/pseuds/Mercurialfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Matt gets kidnapped getting ice cream for Foggy on what must be the hottest day of the year, Foggy has little choice but to do what Matt's kidnappers want. Fortunately, they have no idea who exactly they have captured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We All Scream for Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom! Concrit welcome, of course.

It was hot. So, so hot. And not hot like 'two pretty girls making out' (or two hot guys, Foggy wasn't very particular), but hot as in the kind of sweltering heat only New York City could produce. Foggy was torn between walking as quickly as he could to the office, where he would at least be out of the direct sunlight, or walking very slowly to keep as cool as possible. In the end he decided it didn't really matter anyway, considering his shirt was already soaked through and he couldn't possibly get any hotter. Summer sucked, and everybody wearing those stupid 'Keep calm and wait for summer' shirts could go fuck themselves.

Against all odds Foggy managed to make it to their office. He got a concerned look from Karen, but he waved her off.

“Yes, yes, I know, I'm sweaty and gross, but I packed my deodorant so you shouldn't -” he started, but Karen interrupted him:

“No, that's okay, but I kinda thought Matt would be with you.”

Foggy frowned. “Why would he be with me?”

Karen tilted her head, and rearranged some files on her desk.

“I called him this morning, because he needed to remember to bring the papers for the Myer case, and he mentioned he was going to surprise you with breakfast.”

Foggy stared at her.

“I haven't seen him since yesterday. Also, why would he bring me breakfast?”

Karen grinned, and Foggy had an inkling before she confirmed his suspicions.

“He said something about today's weather and your dislike of it and he wanted to cheer you up with food. I think he mentioned ice cream.”

Foggy couldn't suppress a smile. After the whole 'Daredevil' debacle he was glad Matt was still Matt underneath it all. His smile faded when he realized that Matt never made it to his house. Karen was looking at him, obviously waiting for Foggy to say something about Matt's mysterious change of plans.

“I'll try calling him, maybe something came up. I'll let you know if I hear something.” Foggy promised. Karen gave a relieved smile.

“I just hope I didn't spoil any surprise he may have been planning. I'm glad to see you two seem to have sorted things out.”

Foggy nodded, and moved to the privacy of his own office to call Matt. He hadn't wanted to worry Karen, but Matt wouldn't have mentioned something like that to Karen if he wasn't a hundred percent certain he would go through with it. Foggy anxiously found Matt's contact in his phone and pressed the call button.

Matt didn't answer. Neither did he on the second try. Or the third. Foggy glanced at the clock. Matt was never this late, not without letting Foggy or Karen know. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. There were tons of reasons Matt could be late; he could have misplaced his keys, or a street could have been closed off, or... Foggy sighed. Whatever the reason was, he knew it was going to be impossible to work unless he knew Matt was okay. And there was only one way to find out.

“Karen, I'm going out for a bit. See if I can find Matt. That silly man always manages to get lost or get accidentally adopted by an old couple or something.”

He could hear Karen say something, but by then he was already halfway down the stairs, the sickly feeling that something was horribly wrong intensifying with each step he took. It was only when he had reached the bottom of the stairs that he realized he had no idea where to look for Matt. Matt's apartment? Foggy's apartment? All the places in Hell's Kitchen that sold ice cream? And who even eats ice cream for breakfast? (Foggy does, but Matt couldn't possibly know that without... Oh. Right. Seems like those Daredevil senses could also pick up what Foggy had been eating for breakfast occasionally for the past years. Awkward.)

Foggy decided to retrace Matt's steps, which meant starting at Matt's apartment. Once again cursing the unrelenting heat, Foggy began his long, warm, walk.

 

He hadn't gotten far when his phone started ringing. “Please be Matt, please be Matt,” Foggy muttered to himself, sweaty hands fumbling with the phone. Foggy nearly dropped his phone for real when he saw it was indeed Matt calling him.

“Matt? Where are you? We were worried dude!”

All the relief Foggy had felt when he saw Matt's caller ID disappeared in a rush when he heard the voice on the other side.

“Mister Nelson, I presume? You may call me Mister Sneyder. I have something of yours.”

All the sounds of the street around him seemed to fade away, even the incessant heat of the sun beating down on him didn't seem to reach Foggy.

“What do you want?” Foggy bit out, surprised at how even his voice sounded, even when he was screaming and shaking on the inside.

“Straight to the point, huh?” The man chuckled. “Alright. Winston Myer. I want everything you have on him, and you will drop the case. Is that understood?”

Foggy squeezed his eyes shut. Winston Myer was a horrible, horrible man, and Foggy and Matt had done extensive research to make sure their client, Myer's own brother Tim, would never have to suffer by Winston's hands again. To give all that up was to condemn Tim to a lifetime of misery.

'Mister Sneyder' must have sensed Foggy's hesitation because he spoke up again.

“Do you need to be persuaded? Fine. I had been hoping for that actually.” Foggy could hear Sneyder bark something to someone and then he heard the crackle of electricity and a bloodcurdling scream. For one blissful moment his mind refused to make sense of what had obviously happened but then it hit him like a freight train.

“Stop! Please! Stop, stop, please! I'll do it! I'll do it, please stop hurting him!” Foggy yelled desperately, not caring who might hear him. The sound of electricity being used in all the wrong ways cut out immediately, and the screaming stopped as well. Foggy held his breath, straining to hear anything that would indicate Matt was still alive. He thought he heard a groan, but before he could be certain it was Matt, Sneyder spoke again.

“Pier 92. The building with the collapsed chimney. You have one hour.”

The line went dead and Foggy was left wondering if things would ever be okay again.

 

45 minutes later Foggy was about to piss himself. He had ran all the way back to the office, gave some flimsy excuse to Karen and stuffed everything he could find with regard to the Myer case in his briefcase and rushed off. He could feel the sweat (and maybe some tears, but he would deny that to his dying day) running down his face. He had somehow managed to find a cab and he was now making his way to the only building he could see that seemed to miss a chimney.

Foggy briefly debated waiting until it had been exactly one hour, but he figured the sooner he could get Matt out of there the better. He felt a brief pang of regret for poor Tim Myer, but if Matt would be tortured to death tonight the case would be lost anyway. Maybe they could figure something out once Matt was safe.

The building was old, and from the outside it seemed abandoned. Nervously clutching his briefcase, Foggy strode up to what he guessed was the front door and before he could chicken out, knocked. Nothing happened. Foggy was about to knock again, when the door was opened by a big man, dressed in black clothes and heavy boots. He looked Foggy up and down and seemed satisfied with what he saw. He roughly grabbed Foggy's shoulder and pulled him inside. The man stuck his head out the door to check the street and slammed the door shut.

Foggy's blinked furiously, hoping it would help his eyes adjust to the dim light inside the building. The man who had let him inside the building suddenly stood next to him and before Foggy could say anything he had yanked his briefcase out of his hand and pushed Foggy forwards. Foggy stumbled and walked slowly towards the middle of the room where he could now see another man standing next to a chair with a hunched over figure in it. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the building. The man in the chair let out a soft moan.

Matt, Foggy realized with a jolt. The man in the chair was Matt. He couldn't keep himself from choking out his name: “Matt! Matt are you okay?!”

Matt's head jerked up, sightless eyes trying to find Foggy. Matt was soaking wet and his shirt had been ripped open. His hands were behind his back and Foggy guessed they were tied to the chair. Now that Foggy's eyes had adjusted he could clearly see the burn marks on Matt's chest.

“Foggy? What -” Matt began, but the man who had been standing next to Matt suddenly smacked him in the back of the head, hard. Matt let out a groan and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't try to talk anymore. The man who had hit Matt turned towards Foggy and grinned.

“Ah, mister Nelson, how nice of you to join us. I am mister Sneyder. I presume you brought what I asked for?” The man asked.

Foggy, who could not quite tear his eyes away from Matt, nodded.

“Yeah, it's all in the briefcase, I promise. We will drop the case too, I swear. Can we please go now? We won't tell anyone, just... just let us go? Please?” Foggy stuttered.

He couldn't care less about how meek and cowardly he sounded. He needed to get Matt out of there, they would deal with these assholes later.

Sneyder narrowed his eyes at Foggy, taking him in for a long moment. Then he turned to Matt, who was still slumped forward in his chair.

“I will. It would be suspicious if you would both disappear, of course. But keep in mind, I know who you are, where you live. I know who your pretty secretary is. So if you're thinking about going to the police... Don't.”

Foggy nodded desperately. “We won't. Honestly.”

Sneyder nodded at the man who had opened the door. The man produced a small key from his pocket and moved behind the chair Matt was sitting in. Moment later a soft metallic 'click' sounded and Matt hands moved forward, no longer held behind his back.

What happened next would forever seem a blur to Foggy. One moment Matt was sitting in a creaky old chair, tortured and in pain, and in the next he was standing up swinging that very same chair around and hitting Sneyder in the head. He followed it up with a double kick to Sneyder's face and three swift punches in his stomach. Before Foggy could do so much as blink Matt had turned around and delivered a roundhouse kick to the face of the Sneyder's companion. The man staggered backwards but managed to get a punch in. Foggy could see Matt's wince, but it did nothing to slow him down. A flurry of movement, and Foggy and Matt were the only two conscious people in the room.

Panting, Matt turned his face towards Foggy. “Are you okay?”

Foggy sputtered. “Am I okay? Are you okay?!”

Matt grinned and nodded. “I'm fine, don't worry Foggy. We need to call the police though.”

“Are you sure? We can't just leave them here?”

Matt shook his head. “You heard what they said. They know who we are. If we would leave them like this they could come after us again. This wasn't Daredevil business, so we need to play this through official lines. We'll make something up about getting the drop on them or something. If anything, this will probably play out in our favor in the Myer case.”

It made sense. For one second Foggy entertained the idea of a more 'permanent' solution, but he disregarded the idea almost immediately. They weren't murderers, even if these men deserved to die.

He could hear Matt shuffling around looking for something. Now that the immediate danger had passed, Foggy could see how tired and worn looking Matt was.

“Why don't you sit down man? Let me call the cops and an ambulance, okay?” Foggy tried.

Matt shook his head. “I'm fine, I just need to find my stuff.”

Foggy rolled his eyes and marched over to where Matt was. “Better idea. You call the cops, I'll find your stuff. The sooner we're out of here the better. We're at Pier 92.”

Matt opened his mouth to no doubt voice his protest, but Foggy just pressed his phone in his hands and walked away. Sometimes arguing with Matt was like talking to wall, and today he just didn't have it in him to try to reason with his friend. It didn't take Foggy long to find Matt's discarded glasses, his cane, and his own briefcase. Behind him, he could hear Matt giving the address and hanging up. Foggy knew that as soon as he was home he was going to have a small mental breakdown, but right now he needed to keep it together. Matt had been through enough, a panicking friend was the last thing he needed.

Foggy pressed Matt's glasses in Matt's hand and handed him his cane. He put the chair Matt had used to take down Sneyder right behind Matt and waited. Matt gave him a wry grin, but the fact that he sat down almost immediately proved Foggy's concern about his well-being correct. Together, they waited for the police.

 

“Thanks Foggy, you're the best,” Matt rasped, “I couldn't wish for a better friend.”

Foggy straightened up from where he had been helping Matt move to the couch.

“Nah man, least I could do.”

They had just come back from the hospital, where Matt had stayed the night. He wasn't badly injured fortunately, the electricity had done no permanent harm, and the burns on his chest were small and healing well. Foggy suspected that Matt was actually more bothered by his sore throat, from when he had been screaming.

“Can I get you anything? Water, or painkillers?” Foggy offered.

Matt hesitated, but before Foggy could ask what he was thinking Matt tentatively spoke up.

“The doctors recommended something for my throat, actually.”

“What was it? You want me to get it?”

“Better not.” And now Matt was grinning a little.

“Well... They said ice cream would help.”


End file.
